


Highly Inappropriate

by starspangledmanwithaplan



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Adventures: Iron Man, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Consensual, Consensual Sex, Desk Sex, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Reader, Implied Sexual Content, Language, Mild Language, Oral Sex, Plus Size Woman, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sex on Furniture, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Spanking, Vaginal Sex, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 03:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14369580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starspangledmanwithaplan/pseuds/starspangledmanwithaplan
Summary: You find out that being Tony’s assistant comes with some extra perks





	Highly Inappropriate

Being an assistant to Tony Stark wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Tony wasn’t always the carefree, funny, charismatic guy that everyone wanted him to be. He was broken, barely held together, he suffered from PTSD, had night terrors, depression, anxiety; the list was endless, and you were there to witness it all.

Because they couldn’t be with Tony twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, Happy and Pepper trusted you to keep an eye on him, to make sure he took his medication and made it to all his meetings on time. Since Tony wasn’t one for abiding by the rules, the first few months were hell on earth. He screamed a lot, and threw things, never directly at you, though. He also refused to routinely take his medication. And then one day, you had had enough.

You kicked off your heels, marched over to him, shoved him onto the couch, and sat on his lap, your thick thighs on either side of his. “Stop acting like a goddamn child, and take your medicine,” you snarled, eyebrow arched.

With wide eyes, he did as instructed, even going so far as to lift his tongue for you to see that he had indeed taken his medication.

You huffed and clapped your hand against his chest. “Don’t make me do that again, Mr. Stark,” you said, low in your throat.

There was a spark in his eyes that sent a rush of heat to your core. “Or what, Miss Y/L/N?”

“Or I’ll sit on you again,” you sassed, rolling your eyes and shoving yourself off of your boss.

“That doesn’t sound like much of a threat,” Tony chuckled.

You gnawed on the inside of your cheek as you stepped into your heels. “It only is if I have to take this conversation to human resources,” you shot back.

“You wouldn’t,” he murmured, pushing up from the couch and crossing the room to stand in front of you.

To say that you weren’t attracted to the one and only Tony Stark, would be like saying you hated drinking alcohol when you wanted to get drunk. He was damn attractive, snarky, his wit was unparalleled, but he was also your boss. Exploring  _anything_  in the realm of a non-professional relationship was out of the question. Besides, you weren’t what most would consider sexy, especially a playboy like Tony. Along with the rest of the world, you had seen his conquests, and none of them looked like you.

You had curves that most women secretly coveted, but would never say aloud; thick thighs, supple breasts, and a plump ass. Sure, your stomach was softer than most others, you had cellulite and stretch marks, and yeah, you had days where you felt bloated, where all you wanted to do was pull on a pair of sweats and lounge around watching Netflix, but you didn’t hate the way you looked.

Standing there, close enough to smell the remnants of his spicy cologne, to see that his moustache was starting to go grey, you fought the urge to grab his lapels and show him exactly what you wanted to do.

“Don’t test me, Mr. Stark,” was all you said before turning around and strutting out of his office, his rich laugh following you.

* * *

It had been six months since the day you forced Tony to take his medication, and every day following, he took it without an issue. The only times he ever really refused was when you weren’t in the room. Pepper had given up on trying, citing, “He’s a grown ass man, he needs to act like one.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that.

You had also noticed a slight shift in the relationship between the two of you. Tony acted a little looser around you, almost as if he were letting his walls down as he grew more comfortable in your presence. You had even caught his eyes lingering a little too long on you than was socially acceptable, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, a glint in his eyes, but you thought nothing of it. Tony was just being Tony; goofing around, flirting with women; that didn’t mean he  _liked_ you.

Everyone had left hours ago, it was just Tony and yourself in his office. You were taking notes for an upcoming speech, barely paying attention, your ears and hand working solely on muscle memory. Speaking of muscles, the ones in your neck and shoulders were aching. With your eyes closed, you tilted your head to the side, then all the way back, and finally, the other side. It felt so good that you couldn’t stop the moan of appreciation.

Tony turned from his spot, standing in front of the tinted windows, surveying the bright lights below. You felt him watching you as you did it one more time, but when your eyes fluttered open, Tony was nowhere to be seen. And then, his long fingers were on your neck, squeezing the tense muscles.

“Relax, Miss Y/L/N,” he instructed, his voice rich.

“Mr. Stark,” you whined in protest, but did nothing to move away from his touch. “This is highly inappropriate.”

His chuckle washed over you like silk sheets. “Everything I do is highly inappropriate,” he shot back.

When he pushed the pad of his thumbs into the back of your neck, you couldn’t stop the moan that spilled free. Your head lolled forward as his fingers pushed deeper, unravelling the knots one by one, as his hands spread over your shoulders, continuing their ministrations. His hands were warm, and your skin was absorbing that heat and rushing it down to the pit of your stomach where it started to ache. You squeezed your thighs together in a futile attempt to ease it.

“Yes, Tony,” you hissed under your breath, your mind fogged with arousal.

You were in such a haze that when he asked, “Do you like that?” you let out a stuttering sigh.

“It feels so good.” The headache that had been making your brain pulse painfully was almost completely gone, thanks to Tony’s magical fingers.

His mouth was next to your ear when he asked, “Do you want to take a break from this?”

You were shaking your head before he could complete the question. “Hell no,” was your breathy answer.

Before you could blink, Tony spun the chair around and had your face cupped in his hands. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he rasped, and then his lips were on yours.

Your back went ramrod straight for not even three seconds before you sighed and opened your mouth to him. Tony tasted like whiskey, and smelled like faded spice and leather. You gripped the lapels of his lilac shirt and pulled him roughly to you as you stood.

Tony’s hands moved to your hips and he moaned, low and heavy, in the back of his throat. “Jesus. Been wanting to do that for a long time.”

“You don’t say,” you huffed. You could feel the heat of his hands through your clothes, and you found yourself desperately wanting to feel the heavy weight of his hands in other, most definitely inappropriate, places.

He was gnawing on his bottom lip, those large molten chocolate eyes settled on your mouth, and his hips, those narrow hips you had dreamed about many times, were shifting as he moved closer. “What about you?” he asked, a smirk on his lips. “What do you want?”

You draped your arms over his shoulders, thereby pressing your breasts into his chest. “You sure you want to know?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t, sweetheart” Tony chuckled, his fingers drifting closer to your ass.

Humming, you carded your fingers through his hair, your nails scraping against his scalp in a way that made him shudder slightly. There was a second where you felt like you needed to put as much space between you and Tony, that this was all wrong, that maybe what was happening was a cruel joke, but that quickly fell away as he gripped your ass and growled.

With a smirk, you decided to go for it. “I’ve been wondering if you’re as good with your mouth on my pussy as you are at pissing people off with it.”

“Challenge accepted,” he grinned, and then he was kissing you fiercely, fingers digging into your ass, maneuvering you with him as he walked to his desk.

Before you knew it, you were sitting on the edge of his desk, his narrow hips between your thick thighs, and his hands were under the hem of your dress, hitching it higher, exposing the lacy trim of your thigh-high stockings. You dropped your hands behind you, pressing them into the desk as you lifted your ass. Tony’s dark eyes were locked on yours, bottom lip between his teeth, shoving your skirt up and over your hips.

“You sure you can handle all of this?” you rasped. “I’m a lot more woman than you’re used to.”

Tony chuckled, low and dark. “Sweetheart,” he purred. “You have no idea what I’m used to.”

You went to say something about the women you’d seen him with, how everything he did in the public was there, for all to see, but then he was kissing you, fiercer than before, bruising you, swallowing your low moans. His long fingers deftly unbuttoned your shirt and parted it, exposing your lace-covered breasts, the nipples peaked and straining against the fabric. Tony pushed the lace down and moaned heavily into your mouth as the weight of them settled into his palms.

Tony’s goatee bit into your skin as his mouth travelled along your jaw, down your neck, dropping sloppy kisses, tonguing your flushed skin. You watched through hooded lids as he placed numerous kisses over your ample breasts, first one, then the other, until you were shivering with anticipation. And then, his mouth closed over your nipple, his fingers rolling the other one between it, pinching it, sending a jolt down your spine and settling between your legs.

As much as you enjoyed the feeling of his mouth on you breasts, the ache between your legs was getting to be too much, and it was as if Tony could sense it, whether it was because you wrapped a leg around his waist and pulled him into you, or because of the way you were whining, your bottom lip between your teeth, Tony’s mouth ventured down, placing kisses to your belly, sucking red marks into the skin, but when he pressed his nose into your groin and pulled in a deep breath, you just about came undone.

“Damn, darling,” he huffed, fingers brushing against your damp cotton panties. “You smell so good. I can’t wait to taste you.”

“I’m not going to stop you,” you choked.

He shot you a wicked wink before hooking his fingers into your panties and pulling them down your legs, tucking them into his pocket for, “Safekeeping, Y/N.”

The air that was trapped in your lungs came out in a rush when he touched you, parting your slick folds with the back of his two middle fingers, his knuckles exposing your clit, which he then blew on. Your hips shot off the desk of their own accord, which earned you a slap on the back of your thigh.

“Hold still,” he ordered, and boy, did you try.

Tony slid one finger inside you, then another. His strokes were languid and short, inching in and out of you, making you whine for more. He let loose a rich chuckle as he pushed in to his knuckles and curled those talented fingers, scissoring them, stretching you as you climbed higher and higher.

It was when he finally tasted you that you couldn’t help yourself any longer; you grabbed his hair and held him there, shuddering as he sucked on your clit before thrusting his tongue in alongside his fingers. When he moved them in tandem, that was when you came; your head thrown back, your thighs shaking, Tony’s tongue lapping up your juices, your voice a shattered shout of his name.

You whined in protest at the sudden loss of Tony’s fingers, but the sound of his belt and pants coming undone was music to your ears. He stood between your legs, his hair standing on end, a wild look in his eyes, and rolling on a condom onto a cock that made your mouth water.

“There’s plenty of time for that later,” he growled. “Get up, turn around, and bend over.”

You did as instructed, moving to step out of your heels, but stopped when he added, “Leave them on.”

Tony stroked himself as you obeyed him, pushing items off of his desk, putting your ass on display. You hissed at the cool wood against your breasts, but your attention was quickly drawn to the wide head of his cock, and the way it slid through your folds, easing his entrance.

It was intoxicating, the burn as you stretched around his thick cock, the heavy twitch of it when he groaned, inching in until he could go no further. There was a large vein on the underside of his cock that pulsed with every beat of his heart, and it made your pussy clench.

“Yes,” he hissed, grabbing your ass. “Shit, you take my cock so well.”

In a desperate need for friction, you rocked your hips. “Tony, please,” you whined.

“What do you need, baby girl?” he purred, bending over to press a kiss to your shoulder.

You about sobbed when his cock twitched. “I need you.”

“You need me to what?” His cock twitched again, and you knew he was doing it on purpose, driving you mad with desire. Well, two could play at that game.

“I want you,” you arched your back and tightened yourself around him, “to fuck me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tony snarled. He stood tall and did as you requested of him.

With each snap of his hips, your ass slapped against his stomach, echoing each of the gasps you couldn’t help but give at the sensation. Tony was digging bruises into your ass, using it for leverage, pulling you harder into him, the force of it all making him grunt, and he loved every second of it. And then, he did something you never thought he would do; he brought his hand down and slapped your ass.

You hissed at the sting, but in a pleasurable, “Do it again, harder,” kind of way.

Tony did what he did best; he gave the people what they wanted, if only for purely selfish reasons, because when he slapped your ass, your pussy clenched, squeezing his cock, driving him closer to orgasm. He timed each slap, so that when he was buried to the hilt, he’d spank you, and you’d grip him so tight, he would see stars.

Three times he did that, and the third time was when everything unravelled. You gripped onto the edge of the desk - knocking several items off his desk in the process - and came, a sinful sounding moan on your tongue and your eyes rolling back. He was close behind you, thrusting sloppily until he stopped moving altogether, his cock buried in your pussy, pulsing as he came, a snarl on his lips.

Tony peppered kisses to your shoulder as he pulled out, and stopped you from standing with a hand between your shoulder blades. “Catch your breath,” he instructed, his own breath tearing in and out of him.

With your eyes closed and your mind spinning, you heard Tony dispose of the condom and clean himself up. A shiver ran through you at the silky strip of fabric in his hand as he gently cleaned you, murmuring praises and dropping kisses as he went. Next, he was helping you into your panties, securing them around your hips, and adjusting your skirt so that you were covered before you stood. As soon as you were facing him, Tony was kissing you, slowly, gently, fixing your bra, and refastening the buttons on your shirt.

“Never imagined you as the gentle and caring type,” you hummed against his lips.

Tony tucked some hair behind your ear. “I take care of my girl,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Don’t let anyone try and convince you otherwise.”

With a smirk, you readjusted his tie and tucked it into the heather grey vest. “I’m your girl, huh?”

“Nobody else can handle me the way you do,” Tony admitted with a shrug.

“Boy,” you chuckled. “I ain’t even handled you yet.”

He shifted closer, and placed his hands on your hips, and God, it felt so right. “Let’s get started.”


End file.
